


The Flower and The Fountain

by KucatsHouse



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fall of Gondolin, Gondolin, M/M, Middle Earth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-05-15 22:25:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19305064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KucatsHouse/pseuds/KucatsHouse
Summary: The story of two lords of Gondolin throughout the Ages - Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower, and Ecthelion of the House of the Fountain.





	1. At Your Acquaintance

**Author's Note:**

> Characters from The Silmarillion by J.R.R. Tolkien.
> 
> Characters and story concept belong to their original creator.
> 
> I originally wrote this work and published it at the Library of Moria under the pen name Aduial Peredhil. It has been updated and reposted to AO3.

**Summary:** Long before being renowned as the captains of the hidden city of Gondolin, Glorfindel and Ecthelion were children once. This is how they meet.

**Time:** Valinor, during the Years of the Trees  
  
Nothing could compare to the lands of Valinor. Its beauty was radiant and everlasting; it was a place of tranquility and peace. It was forever and timeless. The light of the Western Shores was gentle, tender like a mother's touch, warm and pleasing. The Elves that had traveled there from Endórë marveled at the majesty of the powers that had created such a place. The wonders they found were endless; few words could adequately describe what they saw and experienced. Many, however, often missed the lands of Endórë of which they tarried little before being called by the Valar. But it was the children who had been born on the shores of Valinor that craved the sight of Endórë all the more. For these children could only see the far-off land through the eyes and tales of their parents.

One such child, Glorfindel, desired to see such a place, even at his young age. He had barely reached his twentieth year and was still long from his majority, but he had the early makings and traits of someone who would do great deeds before he left the world. He was fair and tall like most Elves, his hair golden, signifying the Vanyar blood that mingled in his veins with his Noldorin origins. Glorfindel had been named for his brilliant mane, which he often kept in a somewhat messy plait down his back. He was a curious child, often straying from his parents' sides to explore other parts of Valinor and the elves that dwelt there. Glorfindel had few companions his age, but he didn't seem too bothered by the fact. He was precarious and a bit wild to the point that few other elflings could even keep up with him.  
  
So it came that Glorfindel strayed far from the elvish dwellings in Manwë's lands to that of the lake of Lórien, where he knew some Elves dwelt though he had not met many there before. The stretch of land between the two Valar realms was great, but for an Elf the distance was not vast. Besides, the young elfling relished the feel of the wind streaming through his hair as he ran, tugging free golden strands whipping before his clear azure eyes. Glorfindel had been fascinated with the vast stretch of water. He had not yet seen the sea but would often imagine Lórien's lake as the ocean that separated him from the view of Middle-earth far off the horizon. Though it was permitted, he had not yet dared to venture a swim within the cool waters though he had seen others do so.

Glorfindel had expected to be alone when he reached the lake. Each time he had been there previously, Glorfindel had been the only Elf in the vicinity; he expected the same today. To his utmost surprise, he found another Elf by the water's edge. The Elf was as tall as he, but possessed dark hair and silvery gray-blue eyes. The hair was loose and rippled in the faint wind that blew, swirling like waves around curving shoulders. Glorfindel found himself itching to touch the silky mane that seemed to capture the light, and refusing to relinquish it. The Elf's lean form rested near the lake, one bared leg dangling into the cool liquid up to the knee; the other rested on the ground, bent at the knee to support one elbow.

The other Elf didn't seem to notice Glorfindel, immersed as he was in playing a silver reed-shaped flute. The melody was gentle and soothing; Glorfindel found himself closing his eyes as he drowned in the song. The music spoke of lands unseen, lands calling, begging to be visited. It told of lost places uninhabited for ages, and of Elves returning to their birthplaces in far distant times. It spoke of a wish, a desire to see such lands with one‘s own eyes. Glorfindel slowly began to realize that the song reflected the wishes of his heart and his desire to see Endórë, which he had heard so much about.

Gently, the music began to fade away. Glorfindel seemed unaware of the fact for some while; he became alerted to the silence as someone cleared their throat. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and found himself gazing into the glittering orbs of the other Elf, who gave him a warm smile. He returned the smile with one of his own, suddenly feeling a little shy in the other's presence. The Elf beckoned him over and Glorfindel complied, settling down on the soft grass of the lake side. The ends of his long hair just brushed the water's edge as he glanced down at his reflection, the braid long undone during his run.  
  
"What is your name?" the Elf asked. His voice was gentle and kind, much like his music.  
  
Glorfindel glanced up at the speaker briefly before replying. "Glorfindel," he simply said.  
  
The Elf smiled upon hearing him speak. “Golden-haired. It suits you well. I am Ecthelion. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Glorfindel."  
  
"The pleasure is mine."  
  
Ecthelion smiled at his new companion. The Elf sitting next to him couldn't have been more than ten years younger that he. Glorfindel's hair was a rich, golden color, which, Ecthelion concluded, meant he possessed some Vanyar blood. It seemed to Ecthelion that Glorfindel was rather shy in his presence, though he could not begin to imagine why. He decided to strike up a conversation with Glorfindel in an effort to calm the other.

"Where do you come from, _mellon-nîn_?" he asked. "I have not seen you at Lord Lórien's lake before this day."

"I have been here before," Glorfindel replied, dipping a finger into the crystal clear water and swirling it about a bit. "I like to visit this lake, it is always quiet and peaceful. I live in Lord Manwë's land, in that direction." He gestured in the direction he had come from.  
  
Ecthelion followed the path of Glorfindel‘s hand before turning back to the other Elf. "'Tis far to travel from Lord Manwë‘s land to Lord Lórien‘s. And, yet you make the trip alone."  
  
Glorfindel merely shrugged at the statement. "It is not so far, and it does not take long to travel the distance. I like to make the journey. The wind feels delightful when I run."  
  
Ecthelion knew the exhilaration that one could achieve from running, though he himself preferred the feel of cool water against his skin. This golden-haired Elf was beginning to intrigue him; Ecthelion decided to press a few more questions. "Do you not have any siblings, Glorfindel? Parents?"  
  
"I have parents, but no siblings. And you?"  
  
"I have parents, and one brother, Astaldion."  
  
The idea of having siblings seemed to intrigue Glorfindel. He turned to his companion, his eyes full of questions. "What is he like? Your brother, I mean."   
  
Ecthelion thought for a moment, looking contemplative as he tried to phrase his next words properly. "He has already passed his majority. Astaldion is valiant, like his name. And, he's very kind. He takes care of the other elflings and I without complaint or protests. He rather enjoys being caretaker, I believe. Ada is proud of him."  
  
"He is not proud of you?"  
  
"He is. We are different children, my brother and I. Ada is proud of us both, I believe. You said you do not have siblings, Glorfindel?" A shake of the head was his answer. "Do you not wish you had a brother or sister?"  
  
"Sometimes. But it does not bother me overly much. Although, I am curious as to what it is like living with another close to my age."  
  
"I see."  
  
During their brief exchange, Glorfindel was beginning to find his new companion rather fascinating. Ecthelion seemed different from all the other Elves Glorfindel had met thus far. His young mind couldn't fathom a reason why, but Ecthelion seemed to blend fierceness and determination with a gentle manner and heart. It helped that the dark-haired Elf was close to Glorfindel's age. He tilted his golden crown slightly as he began to study his companion more closely.  
  
Ecthelion, likewise, sat in silence observing the other. Glorfindel was a curious child, and very observant, he noted, as the blond Elf's eyes took in all of Ecthelion's form. It was not unheard of for Elves to travel from Manwë's land to Lórien‘s, but here was one so young, and without the company of his family. Ecthelion deduced that Glorfindel had wandered off on his own; he was expecting his companion's parents to come seeking him out soon.

"What song were you playing?" Glorfindel asked suddenly, breaking the silence. "I have never heard it before. Nana sings of many songs, and I have heard more from others. But, I have never heard the song which you have played."  
  
"That does not surprise me, _meldir._ It is a song I created. Does it remind you of something?"  
  
Glorfindel nodded. "It reminded me of the stories my parents tell of the land called Endórë."  
  
Ecthelion seemed satisfied with the answer. "Ah, so you have heard such stories as well. I am pleased, then, that my song was so successful in its purpose."  
  
"What purpose was that?"  
  
"To remind and console those who left that land so long ago, and to warm the hearts of those who have not yet visited them." Ecthelion smiled warmly, moving his leg ever so slightly to create small ripples on the water's surface. "I have long desired to visit Endórë. I have dreamt of walking the lands, dancing and racing among the trees Lady Yavanna shaped there. I have wished to lie beneath the stars set in the sky by Lady Varda and count them long into the night. I do not know if I ever shall see Endórë, but I greatly desire to do so one day.”

The younger Elf nodded slowly. He knew exactly how Ecthelion felt, for he too harbored such wants and desires. He loved Valinor, but Glorfindel also wanted to see the land upon which his parents had awakened many years ago. "Do you not like Valinor?" he ventured to ask Ecthelion.

Ecthelion gave him a warm smile before replying. "I do. It is a beautiful land, and the Valar are kind and just in their ways. This land is suited to us Elves, who love the stars and trees, open air and vast spaces. But it is natural to have a desire to seek lands and places one has heard so much about. We all feel the need to return to places we have been, reunite with old friends and meet new ones. It is our way, the way of life."  
  
Throughout the narration, Glorfindel listened with an attentive ear. Ecthelion seemed wise beyond his years, or he was merely thoughtful and considered his words carefully before speaking them aloud. Whichever was the case, it was evident that the Elves' trains of thought flowed in a similar direction.  
  
"Tell me something, Glorfindel." Ecthelion's musical voice broke Glorfindel out of the revere he had slipped into. “What do you truly think of this place?"  
  
Blue eyes blinked owlishly. “How do you mean?”

“Valinor.” Ecthelion raised his hand, delicate fingers gesturing to all the land around them. “What do you think of it?”  
  
Glorfindel shrugged. “It’s beautiful," he finally answered simply.  
  
Ecthelion arched a delicately shaped eyebrow. “It is, but that doesn’t answer my question.” His voice sounded skeptical, and amused. He made a come hither motion with a flick of his wrist. As if they had known each other for an age, Glorfindel shifted closer, allowing Ecthelion to begin combing out the tangles in his hair with long, slim fingers.  
  
“Valinor is the only home I’ve ever known," Glorfindel murmured quietly. “I love it here. There is much to see and do. The Valar are generous with their gifts to us.”

“Is that all, _meldir_?" Ecthelion could hear Glorfindel’s deep sigh. He waited patiently for his companion to gather his thoughts whilst he continued to smooth out Glorfindel's hair.  
  
"I want to see Endórë," the golden-haired Elf finally stated. "I want to see the beauty my parents remember. It is where we Elves are really supposed to live, isn't it? Our parents awoke there. Lord Manwë has always said that the land was created and made for Iluvutar's children. We are his children, so why do we not reside there?”

"There are many things that occur in this world that are beyond our control." Ecthelion finished with Glorfindel's hair, allowing the other to turn and fix him with piercing blue eyes. "Our fate is ultimately left up to Iluvutar and the Valar. The paths we walk to that fate are our own. We make our own choices, and must live by the consequences.” He paused, considering his next words before speaking. ”Our parents chose to heed the calling of the Valar and come live in Valinor. Maybe, one day, another force will call us, the children, back to the lands that were meant for us to cultivate. Have faith and patience, Glorfindel. We have all the time in the world." 

A small smile began to spread across Glorfindel's face. Here was someone who understood him, someone who shared his thoughts and desires. Glorfindel had pelted his parents with questions of Endórë, voiced his desire to see the lands with his own eyes. He had shared some of his wants with others, but most brushed his wishes aside. But not Ecthelion. In the other, he had found a true companion, someone who not only listened and understood but felt the same as he did. Glorfindel felt calmer, more serene than he had before. Silently, he thanked Ecthelion for that.  
  
"Glorfindel!" Off in the distance stood a tall elf at the treeline, calling to the blond.  
  
"Ada has come for me," Glorfindel said, rising to his feet and dusting the grass blades from his knees. He turned to leave, but stopped and turned back to face Ecthelion with questioning eyes. "Will I see you again?"   
  
"Of course," Ecthelion replied with a smile. "Are we not friends?" Blue eyes widened at the question before a golden head bobbed enthusiastically in the affirmative. "Then we shall meet again. I expect we shall see each other many more times in the days to come." The thought seemed to please Glorfindel as his eyes began to brighten at the prospect. Ecthelion smiled up at him. "Until next we meet, _mellon-nîn_."  
  
"Until then, Ecthelion." With another happy smile, Glorfindel dashed off. He raced quickly up to his father, giving his parent an affectionate squeeze about the waist.  
  
"Who was that?" his father asked as they began the journey back towards Manwë's lands.  
  
"A friend," Glorfindel stately happily.  
  
"You've made a friend? That is good. What is his name?"  
  
"Ecthelion." He smiled again as Glorfindel heard Ecthelion playing his flute in the distance. He hoped to spend many more days in conversation with his new friend. Fate has an uncanny knack for granting such heartfelt wishes.


	2. Innocent Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a few months shy of his majority, Glorfindel ponders the the responsibility of adulthood and the pleasures of a simple kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original characters and story concept by J.R.R. Tolkien.
> 
> The timeline for this chapter is set approximately 90 years before the crossing of Helcaraxë.

The rain that had fallen earlier didn't seem to have placed a damper on Ecthelion's spirits as he walked towards Lórien's lake with his bundle. In fact, the Elf loved the rain; he relished in the feel of the cool droplets seeping into his clothing and hair, trickling down his skin and falling from his lashes onto his cheeks. The misty haze was often filled with his laughter and delight as he danced in the curtain of rain, sometimes making a game out of avoiding the largest droplets. Ecthelion loved to walk in a downpour when it occurred, for the event was infrequent in Valinor. But today he had opted not to. He was to meet Glorfindel that day; he didn't want to show up looking half-drowned and startling his friend.  
  
Ecthelion had known Glorfindel a good thirty years since the day they had met at Lórien's lake unexpectedly. The young Elf had told Ecthelion much of his family, and of the land Manwë presided over. He had even gone to visit Glorfindel a few times, much to the younger Elf's surprise and pleasure. They had become fast, and very close, friends over the years. Few others could rival the connection they shared, a bond which most agreed would only grow closer in the years to come. At Ecthelion's insistence, Glorfindel had been present at his coming-of-age ceremony, when Ecthelion had reached his majority ten years ago. Glorfindel had not hesitated in asking the same of Ecthelion; he was to reach his majority within the coming months, but he had long laid the request before his friend.  
  
He was the first to reach the lake, as usual. Unrolling part of his bundle, Ecthelion spread a brilliant blue blanket upon the damp ground. He removed his boots before crawling onto the soft material, seating himself within the sun symbol situated in the exact center of the square. A mere minute passed before Glorfindel raced up to him, partially out of breath. He was about step onto the blanket, but stopped at the reproachful look Ecthelion shot at him. With a sheepish grin, Glorfindel shucked off his muddy boots before practically falling onto the blanket. His head and messy crown of hair spilled over his friend's lap like liquid sunlight.

" _Mae govannen_ , Glorfindel," Ecthelion greeted with a smile, one hand already combing through the golden, slightly tangled mess.  
  
" _Mae govannen_ , Ecthelion," Glorfindel murmured. "I'm sorry I'm late. Nana would not have me running in the rain no matter how much I insisted."  
  
"'Tis all right. No harm done, _mellon-nîn_. I only just arrived myself." Ecthelion unrolled the rest of his bundle to reveal a silver handled brush, a few strips of tanned leather, and his flute. He had obtained the habit of bringing a brush with him whenever he was going to meet with Glorfindel, who always seemed to arrive with disheveled hair of some sort. Ecthelion knew making Glorfindel presentable would be in vain, for his work would be undone during Glorfindel's return trip, but he relished the work of untangling the golden mane. As he began his work, azure eyes gazed up at him playfully.  
  
"You like playing with my hair," Glorfindel stated plainly.  
  
Ecthelion nodded, lifting a handful of gold and running the brush through it. "You possess hair many are envious of, _meldir_. I am certain that others have wished often to have hair as brilliant as yours. I find it invigorating, and fulfilling, just to lay it in a simple plait." Glorfindel merely grinned up at him, laying his head upon Ecthelion's slender thighs as the other continued the work of untangling the gold tresses.

"What is majority like, Ecthelion?" Glorfindel asked, breaking the silence a few minutes later. "Is it any different once it has happened? Or is everything the same as it was before you came of age?"  
  
"It is different, and the same all at once," Ecthelion replied, putting away the brush before dividing the golden mane into three sections.  
  
"How so?"  
  
"You become grown almost instantly. To those younger than you, you are seen as wise and all knowing. Whatever opinions, agreements, or objections you place hold towards others are taken into consideration. Your own actions and words are considered heavily and much debated, rather than being brushed off as a 'child's folly’." He paused a moment as he finished braiding Glorfindel’s, Ecthelion reached for a leather strip and allowed Glorfindel to considere his words. "Other than that, nothing really changes. You are still the same person you were before. Your parents are the same, your siblings, your friends. You are changed, and yet you are not."  
  
For a time, there were no further words. Glorfindel sat still, turning over the things Ecthelion had just said while his friend concentrating of his work. ”Have you taken a lover yet, Ecthelion?"  
  
Ecthelion’s hands fell momentarily still. The question threw him off-guard by its suddenness, and how unrelated it was to the previous line of discussion. “’Tis an odd thing to inquiry about. Why do you ask me such, Glorfindel?” Ecthelion ran his fingers lightly over his finished work, now stretched across his friend's back as he awaited a response.  
  
The younger Elf shrugged. He lifted himself onto his elbows, tilting his head to gaze into his friend's gray-blue eyes. "It seems to me that," Glorfindel began, "once all Elves reach their majority, they take on a lover. Nana told me once that she met Ada shortly after her majority. I had thought all Elves find a lover once they came of age as it appears to be the natural way of things.”  
  
Ecthelion found the azure eyes now staring into his own a little piercing. He forced himself not to flinch as he returned the gaze. "Not all Elves, Glorfindel,” he replied carefully. “I have not."  
  
That seemed an odd fact indeed. Glorfindel would have thought someone as thoughtful and kind as his friend would easily find himself another to love. “Why not?"  
  
Ecthelion shrugged. The idea of love had not occurred to him before. In fact, he had not thought of meeting a future lover at all before the present conversation. Ecthelion had always assumed the Valar would show him when and with whom he was to spend the rest of his days with on their own time.  
  
"It has never occurred to me before," Ecthelion finally answered, speaking the truth of his mind. He wondered if his words would settle Glorfindel's curiosity; apparently, they did not.  
  
"Do you not wish to?" Glorfindel pressed.  
  
"I do, but I do not believe it is yet my time. I have not met such a person with whom I should share such an intimate emotional bonding." Ecthelion studied his friend for a moment. Glorfindel was now staring at his hands; there was something within the azure eyes, some unasked question.  
  
"Then," Glorfindel finally spoke, "you do not know what it is like to be kissed?”

Ecthelion blinked; he had not been prepared for that question either. Today seemed to be the day for unusual inquiries. ”Now, why do you ask me this, _meldir_? What has prompted you to present such questions to me this day?"

Glorfindel looked uncomfortable as he fidgeted. Slowly he pushed himself up until he was sitting on his heels but his gaze fixed upon Ecthelion's knees. "I saw Egalmoth kissing Rog yesterday," he said, his voice barely above a whisper as he mentioned their mutual friends. Pale cheeks began to stain pink as Glorfindel recalled the intimate moment. ”I didn't mean to watch them, but I couldn't help it. They were touching and smiling, and it made me wonder. I asked Ada about it, but he told me I was too young and to wait until after my majority. But I'm curious, Ecthelion. Do you know what it's like?”

"To be kissed, you mean?" Glorfindel nodded as Ecthelion sighed. "I'm afraid I don't, _meldir_. I believe a kiss to be an intimate act, something you give only to those who hold your deepest affections. Thus far, my parents and Astaldion have been the only recipients of such affection from me.  
"A kiss is not something that is to be given freely, or to be taken lightly. There is a great deal of trust involved in such a seemingly simple gesture. I am afraid that, outside of my family, I have found no one else to bestow such feelings upon."  
  
"Not even towards me?" Glorfindel looked rather hurt at the admission, but Ecthelion's next words seemed to reassure him.  
  
"Of course you, _mellon-nîn_! You are my dearest friend. Of course I feel such affection towards you." Ecthelion chewed on his lip; he realized his last words sounded hypocritical. Glorfindel seemed to have realized it as well, but remained silent. "Would you like to try?"  
  
"W-what?" Glorfindel's head snapped up at the question. His eyes searched Ecthelion's to assess if his friend was merely speaking in jest or being serious. There was no hint of mischievousness in the gray-blue gaze; instead, there was sincerity and kindness. Ecthelion really was willing to give it a try. Glorfindel faltered, not quite knowing how to answer. "But, you just said…"

"Yes, I know what I just said. But, you are my dearest friend, Glorfindel. Very few others do I trust as I do you. If you wish to try, then I am also willing."

There was no immediate response, but after a few minutes of silence and consideration Glorfindel nodded his consent. Ecthelion shifted closer, locking their gazes together. Glorfindel swallowed in an attempt to dispel his sudden nervousness. Ecthelion was so close his breath was tickling his cheek, stirring strands of his golden hair.  
  
Tentatively, Ecthelion leaned closer. He moved slowly so as not to startle Glorfindel, as well as to keep himself calm. He did not know what possessed him to voice the request, but there was no turning back now. And, if he admitted it to himself, Ecthelion was also quite curious. He had seen his parents embrace and share kisses many times; he had also seen Astaldion share shy kisses with his own lover. He too wanted to know what it was like. He watched as Glorfindel's eyes slipped close, a rosy stain upon his cheeks. Taking a short breath, Ecthelion's own eyes closed as he leaned closer, pressing their lips together in a light caress.

It was a brief kiss, one that ended rather quickly and abruptly. Both of them seemed rather startled by their actions, pulling away almost instantly. Furious blushes stained their cheeks as each raised a hand to lightly touch their lips. They stared at each other for the longest time as the initial shock of the kiss died away.  
  
"Would you like to try again?" Ecthelion asked quietly once he had regained his voice. A mere nod was his answer as Glorfindel leaned forward, once again closing his eyes. Ecthelion mimicked his movements as, again, their lips joined.  
  
The second kiss felt different from the first; it was pleasant, warm and...right. It felt right to be doing this, though neither knew why. The first kiss had been rather childish in nature, merely exploration and quaint curiosity. The second felt as if it could go on forever. And it likely would have continued for some time, if Glorfindel hadn’t sneezed.  
  
"I'm sorry," he apologized before turning his face away and sneezing again. "Your hair was tickling my nose."  
  
He couldn’t help it; Ecthelion began to laugh as Glorfindel sniffed and rubbed at his reddening nose. He grinned sheepishly while Ecthelion brushed his dark hair behind his ears. "Let's try again," he said encouragingly, to which Glorfindel gave an enthusiastic nod. For the third time that day, their lips joined as a delightfully pleasant warmth spread through them both.  
  
Deciding to experiment a little, Ecthelion leaned forward and flicked the tip of his tongue across Glorfindel's bottom lip. There was a sharp gasp before his lips parted, and the kiss deepened. A low moan sounded though neither was sure to made it. Ecthelion reached for Glorfindel, gently pulling him closer as their tongues danced and sparred with one another. They melted into each other's arms, drowning in the sensations swirling within them as they forgot everything but the feel of the other.

The need for air soon became difficult to ignore; the pair pulled apart, chests heaving as Glorfindel gave a small whimper in protest to the broken contact. Their arms still encircled one another as if refusing to let go just yet. Glorfindel’s golden hair had become undone once again when Ecthelion's hands had buried themselves in the thick, silky mass. They remained entangled for a while longer, staring into one another's eyes as their breathing became steady. 

Before long, Glorfindel smiled. "So, that's what it's like," he said, his voice a quiet murmur of wonder.

Ecthelion could only nod as they disentangled themselves. He reached for the brush again, quickly fixing the mess he had made of his own work.  
  
Glorfindel looked at him over his shoulder with curious eyes. "Did you like it?” He seemed to relax at the reassuring smile and nod Ecthelion gave him.  
  
“Did you?"  
  
Glorfindel nodded as his hair was finished again. He gazed up at the sky, and quickly realized the time. "Nana is waiting for me!" Quickly scrambled off the blanket, he stood and yanked his boots on. He was about to run off, but stopped and turned to Ecthelion. Glorfindel looked much like he did when they first met, young and shy. He had changed much over the years, grown in ways much more profound than one could imagine. But the one thing that hadn’t changed was the unspoken question he always asked.  
  
Ecthelion knew the question well, knew it well enough that Glorfindel no longer had to speak it. "Tomorrow, _meldir,”_ he said, his voice full of reassurance. “I’ll see you tomorrow."  
  
Glorfindel smiled brightly and nodded before running off. Ecthelion sat a moment, watching the golden head as it disappeared into the surrounding forest. Slowly, he raised his hand and touched his lips. He had been surprised by his own reaction to the kiss. In fact, Ecthelion found himself craving for more of Glorfindel's kiss.  
  
_What does this mean, this warm feeling? Does this mean I'm falling in love with my best friend? My lords and ladies of the Valar, is he whom you have intended for me?_

Ecthelion pondered the thought as he gathered his things and made for home. He had learned one thing: reaching your majority meant things got a little more confusing instead of enlightened. Only time would tell if he ever learned the truth.


	3. The Oath of Fëanor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Light of the Two Trees is gone and the Silmarils stolen. When Fëanor and his sons swear their oath and begin to lead the Noldor from Aman, Glorfindel is torn between staying with his parents or following the rest of his family to the Middle-earth he longs to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters from The Silmarillion by J.R.R. Tolkien.
> 
> Characters and story concept belong to their original creator.
> 
> For those who recognize it, there are some pieces of dialogue and story that come straight from the Silmarillion. Also, Glorfindel's parents are entirely made up characters; they do not appear in any texts.
> 
> Translations: it's been a long time so I don't remember a lot of my Elvish, but "pen-neth" is a pet name for Glorfindel, which roughly means "little one."

It had started out so well; no one was aware it was all about to go so very wrong...

* * * * * 

The time of festival had come again in Valinor. The fruits of Yavanna were flowering and in their prime, filling the air with a sweet fragrance. Delight was seen in the faces of the Firstborn as they eagerly awaited and prepared for the festival to come. It was a time of joy, peace, and celebration; there was little what was thought to be able to mar such a gathering. Even the rift that had lingered between the children of Finwë did not seem to matter as each sibling put aside their quarrels for a time.  
  
Glorfindel was just as eager, if not more so, than most who were to attend the festival that would be held at Taniquetil. It was one of the few times he was able to be with the entirety of his extended family. Most days, he rarely was able to see, much less speak, with any of them. His cousins would be there, and Glorfindel was overjoyed to be able to visit with them again.  
  
So eager was he to attend that Glorfindel was unable to sit still for lengthy periods of time in the days preceding the festival. Often he would become fidgety and distractive towards others to the point his father would ask him to leave the festival preparations. He would always gladly do so, and made frequent trips to visit Ecthelion. The raven-haired Elf seemed to be the only one able to spend great lengths of times in Glorfindel's company when he was overly eager for something to transpire.  
  
When the day of the celebration finally arrived, Glorfindel was overjoyed to learn that Ecthelion would be in attendance, who had agreed to accompany his grandfather, the loremaster Rúmil, to the celebration. He had become so excited that Glorfindel was unable to remain still long enough for his mother to braid his hair in the appropriate fashion.  
  
"Glorfindel!" Estelien cried in exasperation the evening of the festival. She sighed deeply, taking her son's head into her hands and promptly rotating it back into place. Even though he was grown and well past his majority, she still thought of him as a child and loved Glorfindel dearly; Estelien couldn't help but laugh softly at his eagerness. "Sit still, _pen-neth_. I will never be able to get you ready and presentable if you do not remain seated for a little while longer."  
  
"I can't help it, Nana," Glorfindel protested, fiddling with the end of a braid Estelien had just finished as she began another.  
  
Nimble fingers plucked up a sapphire blue bead, weaving it into the golden tresses.“Nervous, are we?”  
  
"Just a little. I have not seen everyone in so long."  
  
"Aye, 'tis true. The last time you were all in one another's company was at your majority, and that was some years ago. I am sure your cousins are just as eager to see you." Estelien paused, tying off the end of the golden braid with a midnight blue ribbon. "But I do not think it is your cousins that you are eager to see."  
  
"What do you mean?" Glorfindel attempted to turn to face his mother, but obediently returned to position at the stern look in her eyes.

"You know perfectly well what I mean," the raven-haired lady replied. "It is Ecthelion you are more eager to see."  
  
"Nana!" Glorfindel felt mortified at his mother's words. Again he attempted to turn to see her, and again he was scolded back into place.  
  
"Oh, do not act so indignant, Glorfindel. You know I speak the truth. No matter how eager you are to see your cousins, it is your best friend who draws your attention the most. You have known him over a century now, and yet you are still so excited at the prospect of being in his company for any length of time. Might there be more than friendship between you two?” Estelien waggled her eyebrows suggestively at her son. She did so love to tease him!  
  
"Nana, please..." Glorfindel felt a deep blush just beginning to settle upon his cheeks and averted his eyes from his own embarrassed gaze staring back through the mirror.  
  
"Glorfindel." Estelien gently urged her son to turn around until he was facing her. Gathering his hands in hers, she locked her gaze upon his, staring into the azure eyes he had inherited from her. "You and Ecthelion are so close. Is there not more than companionship, at least on your part?"  
  
Glorfindel stared down at their joined hands as he searched deep within himself. If he was honest, there was something he felt for his best friend, something he couldn't name. He had felt it before, a fluttering of the heart, but he had never paid much mind to it until now. "I know not what it is I feel, Nana," he confessed quietly. "There is something, I feel it. It grows day by day and the longer I am in his company. But I know not what it is." Pleading blue eyes stared up at his mother, imploring her to tell him what the elusive sensation was.  
  
"My dear child." Estelien caressed a golden braid, allowing her hands to run along its silken length before coming to rest on Glorfindel's cheek. "I cannot tell you what it is you are feeling. You must discover its name on your own."  
  
"But you know what it is." The sudden urge to know began to overwhelm Glorfindel as he felt the fluttering stir again. Now that he realized it was there, it became a maddening sensation, one that seemed to grow whenever he thought about Ecthelion.  
  
"Aye, I do," Estelien replied calmly.  
  
"Then tell me!" Glorfindel's hands tightened over his mother's, eyes pleading for the answer to be given. "I must know what this is. Now that I realize I feel something more than friendship for Ecthelion, I must know what it is called. I know not what sweet madness will claim me later."  
  
"It is not madness, _pen-neth_. You will learn its name in time if you do not already know what it is. Be patient, my dear Glorfindel." She kissed his brow tenderly, tugging lightly on his hands until Glorfindel had risen from his seat. Estelien began fussing over his white and blue robes, attempting to ignore the ache that came knowing her son was grown and no longer her little child. "There, perfect. Now off with you."  
  
"Won't you and Ada come as well?"  
  
"Later, _pen-neth_. Now go, or everyone will be wondering where you are."  
  
Glorfindel smiled, giving his mother a gentle kiss upon the cheek before taking the midnight blue cloak she offered, wrapping it about his shoulders before leaving the house for Tanquetil. He hoped his mother was right and that he would soon discover what it was he felt. Clutching his robes over his heart, Glorfindel thought of Ecthelion again and quickened his pace.

* * * * *

Though he loved celebrations and gatherings, Ecthelion felt out of place in the midst of the company gathered at the Lord of the Valar's home. He found himself standing among the members of the houses of Finwë's children. Fair faces all about him were smiling, melodic voices laughing. Ecthelion was merely the son and grandson lore masters; even if his grandfather was the master Rúmil, Ecthelion felt he had no place among these people. Still, he had agreed to accompany his grandfather to the celebration, and Ecthelion couldn't deny Glorfindel after seeing the glee light up his friend's face at the announcement of his attendance. Sighing faintly, the Ecthelion leaned back against a wall, watching the others of the court mingle amongst themselves. He was unaware his approach until Turgon was at his elbow.  
  
"What bothers you on this glorious night, _meldir_?” Turgon, as befit his place as a grandson of Finwë, was dressed handsomely in rich fabrics in shades of emerald and gold. He twirled in his fingers a small gold chalice of wine as he kept his friend company.  
  
Ecthelion gave him a small smile and a slight shrug. "I'm just a little uncomfortable, Turgon. 'Tis nothing to worry about."  
  
"Ah yes, elaborate celebrations never did suit your mood. You've always felt a little out of place at such fancy gatherings."  
  
"Aye, but I promised my grandfather and Glorfindel that I would be here. I cannot break my word to them."  
  
Turgon smiled upon hearing the loving tone Ecthelion used when he mentioned Glorfindel's name. The son of Fingolfin new both Elves well, and he was also aware of the strong bond of friendship they shared. Turgon entertained the idea of the pair becoming more than merely friends, though he had never mentioned the idea to either of them. They seemed content in their ways, and he didn't want to ruin the relationship with his meddling.  
  
"Ecthelion! Turgon!"  
  
The pair of Elves glanced upward at the sound of their names being called to find Glorfindel weaving his way through the court towards them. A brilliant smile was upon his face as his braided hair gleamed in the light, the blue beads woven expertly into the mane glimmering brightly.  
  
" _Mae govannen_ , Glorfindel," Turgon greeted with an incline of his head. "How are you this evening, cousin?"  
  
"Well, and you?" Glorfindel asked, nodding his head in polite greeting to them both.  
  
"We are both well. But where are your parents? Surely they did not send you here alone."  
  
"Ada and Nana said they would be here shortly. They sent me on ahead to let everyone know of their arrival."  
  
"That is good to know. I have missed speaking with Glorion as of late. I would be very much disappointed if my cousin did not show this evening. I'm sure his mother would be equally disappointed. You have seen your grandmother this evening, Glorfindel?"  
  
"Aye, I was just at her side." Glorfindel was the grandson of Irimë, daughter of Finwë; the golden-haired Elf had inherited most of his traits from his father, Glorion, who in turn had inherited his traits from his father, a Vanya Elf and Irimë's husband. This made Glorfindel related, a little distantly, to the houses of Finwë's children, though he was closest to the sons of Fingolfin.  
  
"Are you not in your grandfather's company, Ecthelion?" Glorfindel questioned upon finding his friend alone despite Turgon's company.  
  
"Ata'da is visiting with others at the moment," Ecthelion replied. "He asked that I mingle and mix among everyone. But you know me, _meldir_. 'Tis not my style to engage myself in mindless gossip."  
  
"Gossip? Mindless?" Turgon pretended to be offended while Glorfindel giggled at feigned slight. "Are you implying that my family is witless, Ecthelion?"  
  
"Nay, Turgon. I am merely stating that one does not need to possess brains in order to become involved in a conversation that obviously does not take any brains to begin with. If one is so ready to believe anything one hears in a room full of the best wine of Valinor, then I would have to say one is, indeed, mindless." The trio laughed richly at Ecthelion's sagely sounding bantering.  
  
"For someone who is half-Teler and the grandson of a loremaster, you are indeed quick witted and sharp of tongue," Turgon said, clapping his friend upon the shoulder.  
  
"Ah, but being half-Teler only allows me to excel in musical abilities. My parents are both half-Teler, if you will kindly remember, and they have confessed to not being a sharp as I am."  
  
"Well then, I must believe you to have inherited something they do not display, _meldir_. But I see my sister is calling me. I shall leave the pair of you to your own devices." With a nod and a smile, Turgon promptly left his companions and went to join the rest of his immediate family.  
  
"It is good to see you here," Glorfindel murmured when Turgon had departed, taking his cousin’s place next to Ecthelion. He turned to his companion and offered a brilliant smile; slowly, as if he didn’t mean to at all, Glorfindel leaned in, his shoulder and arm pressed against Ecthelion’s as a means of comfort and companionship. Ecthelion merely smiled at the gesture, but he was grateful for Glorfindel’s presence.  
  
"Fëanor has arrived," Ecthelion said, looking past the crowd towards the dark-haired Elf who entered with his seven sons. The pair watched as Fingon, son of Fingolfin, went to greet them. “He does not look pleased to be here.”

“I had heard that he did not wish to come.” Glorfindel stood gazing quizzically at his great uncle, as if he could not quite believe his presence. “Lord Manwë had insisted, but even then he did not want to come. It seems my great-grandfather was the one to convince him to attend tonight.”

Ecthelion stood silent for a moment, sipping slowly from his glass as he watched the room around him. “Do you know your uncle well, Glorfindel?"

"Nay, I'm afraid I do not. Maedhros, Maglor, the twins, and I have spoken, but I do not associate much with Fëanor, Celegorm, Caranthir or Curufin. I feel...ill at ease in their presence."  
  
"And you do not with their kin?"  
  
Glorfindel sighed, watching as Fingon made the proper greetings before stepping aside to allow others to do the same. "They are more even tempered than the rest of their family. Truth be told, I enjoy being in Maglor's company the most. He is engaging in conversation, and is a delight to listen to when he sings. I like least being in Caranthir's presence, though I would never tell him so."  
  
"You are entitled to your own opinions about those of your family, _meldir_. I must admit that there are those of my own family whose company I would not want to be in should I have a choice in the matter. But come, enough of this melancholy talk." Ecthelion glanced up and caught Rúmil's eye, who signaled for his grandson to approach. "Ata'da is calling me. I would very much like you meet him."  
  
"I would be delighted," Glorfindel replied with a smile, allowing his friend to maneuver him along the floor and to the loremaster's side.

* * * * * 

As quickly as the Elves had gathered and made merry beneath the light of the stars and in the presence of the Two Trees, the lights suddenly went out. Silence fell quickly. Those present felt as if darkness had entered their hearts at the same moment Ungoliant drank dry the light of the Two Trees, plunging Valinor into eerie black.  
  
"The Light of the Trees has passed away," came the voice of Yavanna as the stars of Varda beamed brightly overhead, casting a pale light on the assembly, "and lives now only in the Silmarils of Fëanor." She stood near the remains of the trees as she spoke, her hands tenderly brushing the branches, which fell away like dust at her touch. She praised Fëanor for his foresight, and implored him to allow her to use the jewels to reclaim the Light of the Trees, a deed the Vala could not perform on her own despite her powers. Manwë too implored Fëanor to listen to her wisdom, to allow her this one request. When the Noldo spoke not a word, Tulkas' voice rang out.  
  
"Speak, O Noldo, yea or nay! But who shall deny Yavanna? And did not the light of the Silmarils come from her work in the beginning?" But Aulë quieted him, asking that Fëanor have some time. When at last he spoke, his voice was laced with bitterness.  
  
"For the less even as for the greater there is some deed that he may accomplish but once only," Fëanor said. "And in that deed his heart shall rest. It may be that I can unlock my jewels, but never again shall I make their life; and if I must break them, I shall break my heart, and I shall be slain; first of all the Eldar in Aman."  
  
"Not the first," said Mandos. His words confused the gathered Elves; none could decipher his meaning, though all seemed aware of the foreboding such news held. "Thou hast spoken." And with the Vala's final words, Nienna cast back her hood and wept for the Two Tears. It was then that everything happened.  
  
"Lord Fëanor! Lord Fëanor I must speak with you!" A servant of Fëanor's suddenly rushed into the middle of the gathering of Elves, out of breath and his face deathly pale.  
  
"What is it?" Fëanor asked, just a little bit irritated after all the ill proceedings.  
  
"My Lord, I came here as quickly as I could!" The youth's pallor was horrid, and he visibly quaked as he stood before his Lord, attempting not to stutter as he spoke his tale. "After you had gone, someone knocked upon the doors to your home. Lord Finwë went to answer them, and then...and then..."  
  
"And then?" Fëanor's patience was wearing thin as he glared down at the Elf, silently demanding he finish his story.  
  
"Melkor was there, my Lord. He demanded the Silmarils; when Lord Finwë refused, Melkor...he...he struck him down."  
  
"What?!"  
  
The messenger cringed at the heated look Fëanor aimed at him. "Melkor, my Lord. H-he struck down your father."  
  
From behind Fëanor, a dozen gasps sounded. Fingolfin whirled upon his brother and sister, disbelief evident in his eyes. Turgon and Finrod held their weeping sisters while their brothers fell into silence. Glorfindel, who had loved his great-grandfather immensely, found himself suddenly clasping Ecthelion's arm as his legs threatened to give out beneath him; his eyes searched out his father, who had gone still at the news.  
  
"Morgoth!" Fëanor cursed, his eyes blazing in anger and hatred for the one who had taken his beloved father from the realm of the living. He then turned to Manwë, leveling his gaze upon the Vala King. "Curse you for calling me here! Curse you for taking me away from my father!" Without another word, Fëanor rushed from the assembly, speeding his way back to Formenos to see his father one last time, leaving his sons in stunned disbelief among the company of their extended family.

* * * * * 

Glorfindel felt weary as he returned from Taniquetil. He was grateful for Ecthelion, who had remained at his side throughout the events of the night. The descendants of Finwë felt listless as they mourned the passing of one so loved amongst their family.  
  
"How do you fare, _meldir_?" Ecthelion's soothing voice sounded in Glorfindel's ear as they walked. He had his arm around his friend, supporting him as needed.  
  
"Weary...and aching," Glorfindel replied. Behind them trudged his parents, and his grandmother; Ecthelion's own family accompanied them, giving them silent support. "I miss him already," the golden-haired Elf murmured, fighting back the tears whilst he clutched Ecthelion's robes in his hand, needing to know his friend was close.  
  
Ecthelion said nothing, hugging him close. They were vaguely aware of a sudden gathering of Noldor within the center of Tirion as they neared the city so recently built. Clearly they heard Fëanor's words, imploring the gathered group to forsake the Valar and follow him into Arda, to Middle-earth, to reclaim the Silmarils that had been stolen at the cost of his father's life.  
  
An oath he swore then, his sons readily following him. Swords were drawn, shimmering in the torchlight a deep blood red. Manwë and Varda they named witnesses to the oath that would only be broken with their deaths, to strike down whoever blocked their path no matter who they were. Fingolfin, and his son Turgon, spoke then against the actions of Fëanor, to which heated words were exchanged. Galadriel and Fingon's hearts were awakened by their uncle's words, and they too yearned to leave for the Outer Lands, as did Angrod and Aegnor though they did not speak.  
  
Glorfindel found a similar stirring within his own heart, a chance to see the Middle-earth he had only heard about in stories. It was a dark moment that gave him this chance, but a chance nonetheless. He would go with them, go with the sons of Fëanor and Fingolfin, into this new world, forsaking all that he had known in the Blessed Realm.  
  
"You shall not go alone."  
  
The faint whisper in his ear startled Glorfindel, who immediately turned to find Ecthelion's eyes leveled upon him.  
  
“I know what it is you would do, and you shall not go alone.” His gaze was steady as he stared into Glorfindel's azure eyes. "I shall go with you."  
  
A smile he gave Ecthelion then, one of true friendship, gratitude, and something much deeper that even Glorfindel was not able to name. That same stirring of the heart surfaced, causing him to drown in the sensation and in Ecthelion’s presence despite the blackness that was creeping around them.   
  
A vow the pair of friends made then while they stared into one another's eyes. Dark times lay ahead of them, but they would see them through, to the very end, together. That was their silent vow which, like Fëanor's, would never be broken, except with their deaths.


	4. Swan Ships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The White Ships of the Teleri, their pride and joy, are wrenched horribly from their hands. Ecthelion watches in despair and horror as friends and family fall before his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters and original story concept the property of the Tolkien estate.
> 
> Warning: there is a character death in this chapter. The character was created for this story and is not an actual character in the Silmarillion. It is not a gruesome depiction, but please be warned.
> 
> Some translations (these are rough as my Elvish is horrible and I've forgotten 99% of it):   
> -Telpëar-Silver sea  
> -Vana-Fair-haired

The white swan ships of Alqualondë bobbed quietly along the shores of Aman where they were docked, oblivious to the chaos surrounding them. Their sails of white and silver, lovingly crafted by the wives and daughters of the Teleri sailors, shimmered in the faint light of Tilion. The white wood used to craft the ships so that they may sail lightly upon the sea were shaped and bound together by the skilled hands of the sailors, resembling the delicate curves of swans. Beautiful they were to those who saw them, light and swift upon the blue waters of Ulmo. And the objects of the battle that raged on in Alqualondë.  
  
This was the home of half of his family, half of him. Ecthelion could not tear his eyes away from the sight of the massacre that was occurring before him. He stood frozen, rigid with incredulity at what was happening. Behind him, his mother had sought solace in his father's arms, and at his side was Glorfindel. The golden head was cradled on Ecthelion's shoulder and the azure eyes averted to keep from witnessing the horrid sight of Elf against Elf.  
  
They, the host of Fingolfin, had come upon the battle over the white ships, shock and disbelief evident in their eyes. Some, believing themselves to be wronged by the Teleri, took up blades and raced forward to assist Fëanor and his sons. There were some who took up arms that went to defend the Teleri, their hands just as equally stained with blood. Others amongst the host thought the injustice to be wrong and stilled their hands even as their hearts bled for their fellow Elves. None, however, could hurt more than Ecthelion as he watched both halves of his heritage lash out at one another.  
  
Internally, the raven-haired Elf raged at the injustice brought onto the fair people of the sea. Yet he dared not raise a hand to stop it, knowing if he did he too would soon suffer the Doom of the Noldor; the curse would become a heavier burden upon his shoulders than his heart could bear. Ecthelion felt rooted to the spot, unable to keep from watching and yet unwilling to do anything to stop the massacre.  
  
"Ecthelion?"  
  
He turned at the sound of his name. Gray-blue eyes were filled with pain as they settled upon Glorfindel's golden crown.  
  
"How can you watch this, Ecthelion?" Glorfindel asked without raising his head, voice muffled by the fabric of his friend's tunic. "These people are your friends, some of them your family. How can you watch all this?"  
  
"I...I don't..." His voice faltered, unable to come up with a reply. He closed his eyes, willing the tears away as they began to collect upon his lashes. Ecthelion heard the screams, the cries in his ears; the sound felt a thousand times more deafening than it actually was. His heart ached though his body felt weary. Sorrow filled him, and he began to despair.  
  
"Ecthelion?" Lifting his head, Glorfindel caught the haunted expression upon his friend's face. He suddenly felt ashamed of himself for grieving selfishly when his friend was practically breaking from the inside out. Ecthelion had more right to hurt than he, yet Glorfindel had given into his sorrow. He felt as if he had betrayed his friend in some manner, but Glorfindel swallowed his pride and shame.  
  
Reaching out suddenly, and without a moment's hesitation, Glorfindel wrapped his arms around Ecthelion, drawing the raven-haired Elf into a tight embrace. He shushed the other when Ecthelion moved to protest, guiding the dark head onto his shoulder and the eyes away from the massacre. Glorfindel maintained his tight hold, preventing his dearest friend from escaping.  
  
He didn't know what to do, and Glorfindel's arms felt the safest place at the moment. So Ecthelion stopped fighting and gave into the false sense of safety, gave into the comfort his friend was providing...gave into the tears. They gave in silvery streams down his cheeks as he buried his face into Glorfindel's golden hair and smooth neck, sobbing quietly.  
  
"Ecthelion?"  
  
His eyes widened; that was not Glorfindel's voice that had just called him. It was familiar, full of pain. A sudden hush descended upon the Elves that surrounded him just as Ecthelion felt his friend stiffen next to him.  
  
"Glorfindel?" He straightened himself, looking up into Glorfindel’s shocked face. Slowly, Ecthelion followed his stunned gaze until they rested upon a silver-haired Elf. “Telpëar?" His cousin stood with a cocky smile despite the blood staining his tunic, leaking between his fingers.

“You look good, cousin,” Telpëar said, greeting Ecthelion as casually as if they were meeting at a gathering. He grinned though his face was edged with pain. He took a step closer, moving as if to embrace Ecthelion, but his legs could carry him no longer.

Ecthelion caught the Teler as he stumbled, feeling the warm blood spill onto his hands and stain the white of his tunic. The tears flowed more heavily as Ecthelion knelt upon the ground, cradling the battered body of his cousin, his mother's sister's son. “Telpëar?! Cousin, stay with me.”

  
"Ecthelion..." Green eyes the color of the leaves in mid-summer gazed back at the raven-haired Elf, the gaze filled with pain. The full lips were pale, the pleasant flush that normally filled them gone. A small smile spread across the too pale face as a hand, streaked with blood, lifted to twine with a strand of dark hair, more of the crimson liquid staining the Teler's tunic. "Cousin, 'tis good to see you though the circumstances are dire." His voice sounded small, weak as he spoke. But there was a brightness in Telpëar's eyes that slightly alarmed Ecthelion, yet soothed him at the same time.  
  
"Do not speak, Telpëar. Conserve your strength." The raven-haired Elf hugged the suddenly all-too-frail body against him, hoping his body heat would be able to aid his cousin in some way. The sad smile Telpëar gave became blurred as more tears collected. His mind couldn’t comprehend the sight before him; Ecthelion could only remember his cousin’s jovial laughter, his bronze skin from hours in the sun, his strong armed hugs.

A shaking hand lifted, wiping away Ecthelion’s tears and leaving behind a faint streak of red. ”No need for that, I won't be long in this world."  
  
Glorfindel's heart cracked as he watched the scene and heard the wail Ecthelion let issue then. Despair and terror were written all over his friend's face. Beside him, Ecthelion's parents grieved, especially his mother for the passing of a beloved sister's only child. Cautiously, not knowing whether he would be invading this private moment, Glorfindel stepped closer. He laid a gentle hand upon Ecthelion's shoulder, squeezing slightly to let his friend know he was there.  
  
The flash of golden hair caught Telpëar's eye even as his vision began to fade. Cold seeped into his body as the pull of Mandos became almost too much to resist. But resist he did, if not for a little while longer, as he turned his sea-green gaze to Glorfindel. "Vana," he whispered. He made a motion with his hand, indicating for the golden-haired Elf to move closer.  
  
Glorfindel complied, kneeling next to Ecthelion while leaning forward. His golden hair framed his face, gently brushing that of Telpëar, who smiled at the silken touch. Glorfindel waited silently, bending his head lower when the Teler motioned him to do so. He was close enough now for Telpëar to whisper into his ear without others, including Ecthelion, overhearing them.  
  
"I see the love in your eyes, Vana," the fading Teler whispered, smiling as Glorfindel's eyes widened. "I do not need my diminishing vision to tell me of the secret love you bear for my cousin. I see your love, as well as your bravery, your courage, and your steadfastness. You may not see it, but I do. I see it all and it lightens my heart." He paused for a moment, shivering slightly as the call of the Halls became more earnest. Telpëar could feel Ecthelion's arms tightening about him, and he pressed on. "Vana, I have a favor to ask of you."  
  
"Anything," Glorfindel whispered, feeling the tears just beginning to prick his eyes.  
  
"Take care of him; take care of Ecthelion. He will need your strength in time. You love him, do not ever abandon him. My passing will cause him much distress. Please, watch over him."  
  
Glorfindel felt his voice failing him. He nodded his reply as the first of his tears fell, splashing warmly against Telpëar's brow, who smiled at the warmth and the affection he saw in the azure eyes.   
  
"Do not grieve for me, cousin.” The light was rapidly diminishing from ’s eyes as he spoke his last words to his kinsman. "I will be in good hands. Look after yourself."  
  
"Telpëar..." Ecthelion could feel the strength leaving his cousin, could feel when his final breath had been released. Tears spilled down his cheeks unchecked as the light left Telpëar forever. Waves of despair overwhelmed him as he held the shell of his cousin to him, his body trembling.   
  
He stayed that way, holding his cousin's body, for what seemed like an eternity. Hands were upon him, touching him gently. Voices spoke, urging Ecthelion to let go, but he refused. He didn't want to let go, didn't want to say good-bye to his cousin though some coherent part of him told Ecthelion it was too late. Fighting whoever it was, Ecthelion held on tighter to Telpëar, refusing to move.  
  
"Ecthelion?"  
  
Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned to the voice that spoke his name so kindly, with so much understanding and compassion in the tone. Gray-blue eyes focused on the face, full of sorrow, framed by golden hair.  
  
"Ecthelion," Glorfindel said, speaking slowly and gently. "Let him go."  
  
Not wanting to comply but knowing he had to, Ecthelion released his cousin, his hands trembling terribly as he did so. As Egalmoth and Rog carefully and gently carried Telpëar away, Ecthelion almost reached out again to pull him back. But Glorfindel caught his hands, drawing his friend into a tight embrace. Ecthelion sank against his form bonelessly, suddenly feeling weary and lost.  
  
"Don't let go," he whispered, clawing desperately at Glorfindel's tunic. Soothing hands stroked his hair and back as the tears refused to stop, dampening Glorfindel's clothes.  
  
"I won't," Glorfindel whispered through his own tears, bestowing a light kiss upon the raven crow. Together they mourned, for Telpëar's passing, for the Teleri as a whole. The battles for the swan ships raged on around them, but they paid it no heed. They had lost so much already. How much more would they be made to suffer before they had peace again?


	5. Touch of Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grinding Ice claims many lives, including those of Ecthelion's family. With his family split apart, he nearly gives up hope and becomes another victim of the ice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original characters and story concept by J.R.R. Tolkien.

For Elves, who were not susceptible to the changing temperatures, the Helcaraxë should have been nothing. But, in actuality, it was far from that. The cold of the Grinding Ice seeped through the thickest of clothing, freezing one's blood and flesh. Fair skin and silken hair turned brittle against the swirling winds that never seemed to cease. All around was an icy wasteland, barren and dead of life save for the host of Fingolfin that dared to cross the white plains in order to reach Middle-earth. The Helcaraxë would claim more than one life before the long journey would be over.  
  
"Ada, we must stop," Turgon called ahead to Fingolfin. He, like the rest of the procession, was tired and hungry. They had little food with them, not realizing they would have to undertake just a lengthy journey; none of them could have foreseen the burning of the Telerin ships that had already cost them so much. At his side huddled Idril, shivering in the cold as she attempted to keep warm by nestling herself between her parents.  
  
"Perhaps you are right," Fingolfin replied with a sigh. He turned, eyeing the long line of Elves that had dared to follow him from Valinor. He wished, not for the first time, that they had never left the beautiful lands of their births and childhoods. Their decision was made, however, and they could not go back.  
  
With a motion of his hand, Fingolfin called for a halt. A collective sigh of relief and weariness passed through the Elves as they settled down for a short respite. Ecthelion fell heavily upon the ice as did the rest of the host, weariness and cold clinging to his bones. He exhaled slowly, his warm breath turning into a fine mist as it touched the cold air. Behind, he could hear his father whispering words of comfort to his mother, his brother not far from them. Ecthelion wished, not for the first time, that they had not taken part in this journey and had remained behind in Valinor with Glorfindel's parents.  
  
"Ecthelion? _Meldir_?"  
  
Ecthelion raised his head as he heard his friend's voice, offering Glorfindel a small smile. "I'm all right, Glorfindel," he whispered as the golden-haired Elf sat next to him.  
  
"You are cold."  
  
"We all are. You should be with what remains of your family."  
  
Glorfindel shook his head defiantly, moving closer to Ecthelion and taking one of his friend’s hands into his own. "I'm fine. My parents are at least safe, spared from all this. That knowledge comforts me, though it is highly possible that I shall never see them again."  
  
"I do not understand how you can find such knowledge reassuring, but it is good to know that you do not despair on this journey." Ecthelion sighed, giving Glorfindel's hand a small squeeze. "What have we gotten ourselves into, Glorfindel? Why did we ever think to leave a place such as Valinor? We were happy there, could have been happy for the rest of our days had we stayed or turned back with Finarfin's company. What compels us to go onward like this?"  
  
"I cannot say. But I am at least glad that you are here with me."  
  
Ecthelion's gray-blue eyes lifted, meeting with Glorfindel's own sapphire pair. "Thank you, _meldir_ , for your words."  
  
Glorfindel merely smiled, placing a tender kiss on the back of Ecthelion's icy hand. "Do not worry yourself, _mellon_. We will endure this; there are brighter days ahead of us." His smile broadened when Ecthelion nodded and moved closer, seeking out his warmth. Glorfindel gently wrapped an arm around his friend's shoulders, pulling their bodies close together. They had another long night ahead of them, and an even longer journey still yet to go.

* * * * *

"The ice is weak here," Fingon called back, warning his brother and the rest of the host as he stepped away from a nearly transparent patch of ice. "Stay close together and watch your footing. If it seems safe, it likely isn't." Tucking a strand of wind-blown hair behind his ear, the eldest son of Fingolfin nodded to his father before continuing to lead the procession onwards.  
  
They had been walking for what seemed an eternity, and had only made it through half of the length of the Helcaraxë. Yet, they had just reached the most treacherous pass of them all. Huddled together, the large band of Elves stretched their already worn senses to the limit; there were more than a few close calls as they made to cross the ice.  
  
"Careful, Nana," Ecthelion soothed, tugging on his mother's arm as he led her onwards. Behind them, Astaldion led their father, whispering in hushed tones. Since they had left Valinor, Ecthelion felt more and more in charge of his parents. His parents were scholars, not at all like their sons, who were both adept at book and blade. Ecthelion was more headstrong than his parents, and even his brother; they had often told him he would make a great warrior one day.  
  
"Ada, I can't!" Just ahead of Ecthelion, Idril collapsed onto the ice next to her father Turgon.  
  
"Idril, you must get up," Turgon urged, trying to gently pull his child back to her feet. "You cannot stay here."  
  
"But I can't go on," she protested. "It's so cold..."  
  
"I know, _aier_ , I know. Please, get to your feet."  
  
With a nod of her golden head, Idril complied as she struggled to her feet. When he was certain she was steady enough, Turgon smiled and gave his daughter a light kiss upon the brow before handing her care over to his wife and making for where his brother led the host.  
  
"How is it?" Turgon asked quietly, stopping at Fingon's elbow.  
  
"I cannot say," the elder brother replied with a sigh. "I sent Glorfindel ahead to scout the area. He should be back shortly." The words had not yet left his lips when the Elf in question returned, a little short of breath. "What did you find?" Fingon asked.  
  
"The ice is thicker just up ahead," Glorfindel replied with a slight bow. "And the air feels warmer. We are nearing the end of our journey I believe, cousin. It will be some time yet, but there is hope that we will get through this."  
  
"'Tis good news indeed," replied Finrod as he approached his cousins. "Once the host is alerted of what you have found, they will be better persuaded to increase their speed."  
  
"Aye," Fingon said. "The sooner we finish this journey, the better. I do not believe there will be anyone here who will miss the cold once we have reached Middle-earth." He was about to say more but his words were cut off by the sound of ice cracking. The group of cousins turned to the sound, as did much of the host, in time to witness a large section of ice crumbling away into the freezing waters below. With the crumbling ice went several elves, include Idril, Ecthelion, and their families.  
  
"Valar no!" Turgon shouted, shedding his cloak and making for the pool of murky ice water despite the warning of his heart. Close at his heels were Glorfindel and Fingon, both tossing off their heavier pieces of clothing before they followed Turgon's lead and dived into the waters.  
  
Glorfindel had never experienced such agonizing cold before. The chilling waters froze his blood in his veins, turned his hair into icicles and threatened to squeeze the air out of his lungs. His chest contracted painfully but he ignored it; the only thought in his mind was to find Ecthelion, and as many others as possible.

* * * * *

It hurt, everything hurt. Their fall had been so sudden that he hadn't had time to think to breath before the waters engulfed him, wetting his clothes and dragging him down. Ecthelion had lost sight of his parents and brother once he had been submerged; all he could remember was someone stepping onto a thin patch of ice, causing it and the surrounding area to crack before the ice gave way. He tried to swim, tried to make for the surface but he couldn't. The cold was too much, and he was so tired. All he wanted to do was sleep and forget it all.  
  
Gray-blue eyes closed as his mind wandered elsewhere, back to days of the past. He thought of his childhood, of happy times roaming the streets and laughing playfully as he chased Astaldion. He thought of Lórien's lake, of the days he would spend near the still waters speaking of simple nothings with Glorfindel.

Glorfindel...he'd never see his friend again, never tell Glorfindel how he truly felt. For that Ecthelion felt regretful, but there was little he could do but allow the cold and dark to pull him under.  
  
He was barely aware of arms wrapping tightly around him, of lips pressing against his icy pair and breathing life into him again. Ecthelion was aware of very little until he was pulled from the waters and air filled his lungs again. Heaving coughs wrecked through his body, which trembled and felt numb. He curled in on himself, trying to get warm but failing. Again, arms were wrapped around him, followed by a warm, dry cloak; a soothing, familiar voice spoke into his ear.  
  
"Ecthelion, _meldir_ , I have you."  
  
Eyes heavy with impending unconsciousness lifted to stare into Glorfindel's worried face. "Gl...Glor...fin...del..." Ecthelion coughed, spitting out water before huddling closer to the warmth his friend provided, tremors coursing through him.  
  
"I'm here, _meldir_. I'm here." Placing a tender kiss upon the cold brow, Glorfindel nodded gratefully to Finrod as the son of Finarfin wrapped another cloak around his shoulders. He opened his mouth to speak, to ask about Turgon and Fingon, when Finrod waved him silent and motioned to his right. Azure eyes turned, relief filling them when Glorfindel saw Idril curled around her father, shivering from the cold but alive. Of Elenwë there was no sign, nor was there any of Ecthelion's family or the others that fell save for one small elfling boy that was wrapped tightly in Fingon's arms.  
  
"Ada...Nana..."  
  
Hearing the hopelessness that mingled in the weak voice, Glorfindel had to force himself to turn to Ecthelion again and meet the gray-blue eyes that suddenly seemed so haunted.  
  
"Glorfindel," Ecthelion said, speaking slowly as blood flowed back into the blue-tinged lips. "Where are they, Glorfindel? My parents, my brother, did they..."  
  
"I'm sorry, _meldir_." There was no sense in hiding the truth; Ecthelion would learn of their fates soon enough. Warm tears began to flow down his cheeks as Glorfindel hugged Ecthelion closer. "I tried but I couldn't find them. I'm so sorry." He felt his heart break at the whimper the raven-haired Elf issued. Ice-cold hands clutched at his golden hair and soaked clothing as crystal tears fell, mingling with his own.  
  
"Don't leave me."  
  
The whisper was barely audible, but Glorfindel heard it nonetheless. Placing gentle kisses across the tear-streaked face, he tenderly rubbed Ecthelion‘s arms and back. "Never, _meldir_. I‘m not going anywhere."  
  
"Please don't." He attempted to bury himself against Glorfindel, clutching fiercely at his friend until his knuckles turned white. "I've lost so much already. Please don't let me lose you too. I need your strength."  
  
"And you shall have it. Now rest, Ecthelion. Just rest. I'll be here."  
  
" _Hannon le_." Feeling somewhat reassured, Ecthelion allowed the welcoming dark to claim him, knowing that Glorfindel would keep his promise.

* * * * *

"How is he?"  
  
Glorfindel shook his head at Fingon's question as his cousin settled down on the ice next to him. "I can't say. His fever won't go down and I don't know what to do. Elves do not fall ill, Fingon. I feel at a loss now that I am faced with such a phenomenon."  
  
Fingon merely nodded, scooting closer and wrapping an arm around his cousin. His free hand tenderly touched Ecthelion's brow where the Elf's head rested against Glorfindel's shoulder. Fingon instantly felt the heat rising from the flushed skin, and it worried him.   
  
It had been three days since the incident that nearly claimed Ecthelion and Idril's lives. Turgon's daughter was fairing better, just feeling weak and shaken from her ordeal and her mother's death. The elfling Fingon had saved was well and eager to leave the frozen lands; none of the others could blame him. But Ecthelion had proven to be the worst of the three, falling ill from the cold and having to be carried by Glorfindel the last few days.  
  
"He has been through much, cousin," Fingon said, rubbing Glorfindel's back soothingly. "The loss of close family members is making him weak in spirit, and therefore susceptible to the cold. He needs time to heal properly."  
  
"What do I do? What can I do? I can‘t just let him be. There must be something I can do to help, Fingon.” Glorfindel felt hopeless and at an utter loss. He had promised Ecthelion that he wouldn't leave his side, but now he was faced with losing his best friend. Tears welled in his eyes but he suppressed them; crying over the matter would do neither of them any good. He had to be strong for them both, until Ecthelion could be strong for himself again.  
  
"Just be with him, Glorfindel," Fingon said in a soothing, calming voice. "Talk to him, let him know you care and that you are here, waiting. It may not seem like it, but he can hear you. Just talk; he'll listen." With one last comforting squeeze, Fingon left to check on the rest of his family, allowing Glorfindel time to ponder his words.  
  
He sat there for some time after Fingon had left, his cousin's words echoing in his mind. Glorfindel knew the wisdom behind Fingon's words, knew him to be right. Pushing the despair from his heart, Glorfindel took a deep, calming breath as his eyes settled on Ecthelion's face.   
  
" _Meldir,_ you can hear me, can't you? Please, please don't give up. Don't leave me to go on alone. I know you've lost your family and that the loss pains you. It pains me as well. Though my parents live, it feels as if I've lost them. It hurts, I know it does, but please don't give in. You still have me, Ecthelion. I'm still here. I promised you I wouldn't live, and I won't. So don't you leave me either."  
  
"Glorfindel?"  
  
Finrod's voice sounded softly in the icy air. Slowly Glorfindel turned to him, meeting sympathetic blue orbs.

"Glorfindel," Finrod called again. "'Tis time we started moving. Can you manage?"

"Aye," Glorfindel replied quietly, taking a moment to wrap Ecthelion securely in his cloak before getting to his feet with Finrod's help.  
  
"He'll be all right, cousin. Ecthelion has always been a strong one."  
  
Glorfindel simply smiled, grateful for Finrod's kind words. Within moments he was walking again, following the rest of the host as they made to finish the rest of their journey. They were nearing the end of the Helcaraxë; the air felt warmer than before, encouraging the Elves to press onward.

Suddenly there was a shout from up ahead. Glorfindel's head snapped up, his senses alert as he looked about for any signs of danger. But he only saw Fingon's flushed face as the Elf ran towards him, his eyes shimmering in glee and a wide smile plastered upon his face.

"Look, Glorfindel, look!" he said loud enough for all the Elves around them to hear. "Ahead, there! Can you see it?!" Fingon pointed frantically, tugging on Glorfindel's cloak like an excited child.  
  
Eager to see what it was that was making his cousin so giddy, Glorfindel, as well as the other Elves, followed Fingon's outstretched arm. They could see nothing but solid white ice for miles...but then, they saw it. There, on the horizon, was a line of green; they could also hear, distantly, the sounds of birds calling and the sea. Glorfindel swallowed the lump forming in his throat when he realized he was seeing and hearing the end of the Helcaraxë, and the beginning of Middle-earth.  
  
"I wish you could see this, _meldir_ ," Glorfindel whispered against Ecthelion's dark crown as Turgon and Finrod raced past him to deliver the news to the end of the host. "We are nearly there, to Middle-earth. It's beautiful, what I can see of it. I wish you could see it."  
  
"I can see it."  
  
Glorfindel nearly jumped at the sound of the soft, fragile sounding voice that spoke. Startled azure orbs stared down, meeting tired gray-blue eyes. "Ecthelion!"  
  
Ecthelion smiled wearily at his friend while snuggling deeper into Glorfindel's warm embrace. "I'm all right, _meldir_ ," he whispered. "And I can see it, Middle-earth. I was almost afraid I would never see it."  
  
"I was afraid you would leave me."  
  
"I couldn't do that, not to you. I've lost much on this journey, but I won't lose you." He lifted his head, giving Glorfindel another weak smile as the golden-haired Elf placed a kiss upon his brow. "Thank you for staying with me."  
  
Glorfindel merely returned the smile, hugging Ecthelion tighter as the host, propelled by the sight of Middle-earth, moved onward to a new home, a new future, and a chance to forget the touch of cold.


	6. By the Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nevrast, the first seat of Turgon's power. Both Glorfindel and Ecthelion learn to adjust to their new lives in a place they have never seen as the memories of their crossing begin to fade so that they may start to heal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters from The Silmarillion by J.R.R. Tolkien.
> 
> Characters and story concept belong to their original creator.

The seas were calm, belying the storm that had raged the previous two days and nights. The sky was clear and cloudless, allowing Anor to shine down and warm the sandy beaches of Nevrast. Waves crested upon the beach, moving forwards before retreating slowly like the caress of a lover over flushed skin. Gulls circled the air and called to one another, now and again alighting upon the sand in search of something to eat. The lone figure seated upon the beach paid them no mind when the gulls drew near, attacking a crab that attempted to fend them off single-handedly.  
  
He was alone on this early afternoon, sitting in quiet contemplation by the seaside. The surf was low, the water cool as it washed over his feet, cleaning them of the sand and wetting the cuffs of his leggings. He always sat close enough for the waves to lap at his feet but far enough to remain relatively dry. The sounds of the sea and the smell of salt seemed to soothe him, and the peace and tranquility appeared to ease the turmoil of his heart and mind. Raven hair, stirred by the wind, floated into his gaze, but he didn't bother to raise a hand to brush the silken locks aside. Nothing seemed to bother him, except the memories.  
  
Many a day since coming to Middle-earth had Ecthelion sat by the sea, watching the waves for hours, unmoving until the sky dimmed and the dining halls of Vinyamar called - or Glorfindel found him. The flowing water differed greatly from the harsh ice, the idea both soothing and baffling to him. There were times when his anger for the journey over the Grinding Ice would overwhelm him and he had to get away from the streets of Vinyamar to reign in his rage. Other times the memories saddened him and all he wanted was to be left alone. But there was always one who would not leave him be, and Ecthelion did not have the heart to turn him away when he came. Such as on this day.  
  
"Ecthelion?"  
  
He let a quiet sigh slip from his lips as he crossed his arms about his legs, resting his chin upon his knees as a shadow stilled to his right. "Here, as always," he whispered.  
  
Slowly, Glorfindel sank to his knees next to his friend. He shifted in the sand a moment, obtaining a more comfortable position while shedding off his boots. For long moments neither spoke nor moved. It was a comfortable silence they shared, neither seemingly bothered by the absence of sound between them. Long years had passed since they came to a mutual understanding of one another. It was this understanding that caused Glorfindel to seek out his friend time after time, to draw Ecthelion back from dark thoughts - sometimes from the very brink of despair or rage.  
  
"Ecthelion, _mellon_." Reaching out, the Glorfindel enfolded an arm about his friend's shoulder, drawing them closer together. He let his hand slip upwards, cupping the nape of Ecthelion's neck and urging the other Elf to cradle his head upon a strong shoulder. Ecthelion complied, melting into the embrace though he kept his arms wrapped around his legs.  
  
"I miss them," Ecthelion whispered quietly after a time. "I don't think I will ever stop missing them."  
  
Glorfindel knew of whom Ecthelion spoke of, but chose to remain silent and allow his friend to continue.  
  
"I did not think I would lose them so soon. All my life, I dreamed of the days I would share with my parents and my brother. I dreamed of watching my brother marry his beloved, of them having children and watching them grow. My parents were content in their ways, and I always envisioned them going about their lives with relish day after day. They were scholars at heart, and I had always thought they would spend the days flitting around libraries in contentment. I never imagined fate would be so cruel as to take them from this world before they had much time to see it."  
  
"Fate is cruel, _mellon-nîn_ ," Glorfindel murmured. "The Eldar are both blessed and cursed in our ways, our mannerisms and attributes. Blessed with a long life, yet we are not impervious to injury or grief. Indeed grief is our bane. I fear it; I fear it will take away more than I already have lost. I have not suffered as much as you in this short time, Ecthelion. But we have all suffered in some form or another."  
  
Ecthelion listened to Glorfindel's words, reading the wisdom behind them. Though his friend was nearly ten years his junior and slightly less knowledgeable in the scholarly arts than Ecthelion, Glorfindel had quickly become his anchor to the world, his guide and council. He smiled faintly, leaning further into Glorfindel's embrace.  
  
"I am glad for one thing," Ecthelion murmured, a lock of golden hair teasing his cheek.  
  
"What is that?"  
  
"That you are here with me. I could not do this alone. And I would not accept anyone else's help in these dark times, save for yours. Thank you, _meldir_ , for being there."  
  
Glorfindel smiled and placed a chaste kiss upon the dark crown. "I will always be there when you need me, you know that."  
  
"I do."  
  
Silence invaded again as the friends stared out into the sea. Gentle salt tinged breezes tugged at their clothes and hair as the waves washed over their feet. The day was pleasant, but the air held a hint of the rain that had receded during the night; it would storm again, but not for some time. It almost seemed as if the skies were weeping their last tears for the Elves and their suffering, which was far from over.  
  
"Turgon has asked that we be two of his captains," Glorfindel finally said. He rested his temple against the top of Ecthelion's head, closing his eyes momentarily. "It is his way of thanking us for taking care of Idril this last year."  
  
"He need not promote us for a task we would have gladly performed under any circumstances," Ecthelion replied. He gazed upward when he felt Glorfindel shake his head.  
  
"Not under any circumstances. You were still grieving, your family's passing so recent. And yet, through all your pain and despair, you cared for Idril once you had physically recovered from your fever." Glorfindel swallowed, feeling the prickling of tears at the corners of his eyes as he always did when this subject was at hand. "You cared for another when you had your own troubles to think about. How you did so, I will never know. But Turgon is eternally grateful for such, and he shall never forget it. Nor shall Idril and I."  
  
Ecthelion gently disentangled himself from Glorfindel's grasp. He shifted in the sand until he knelt upon his knees, facing his long time friend. A slender hand crept up, cupping the warm skin of Glorfindel's face as Ecthelion gazed long and deep into azure eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips. "And I am eternally grateful to you, _meldir_."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For being here with me all this time." Ecthelion averted his eyes, choosing to gaze downward as he dropped his hand, clasping both together and resting them upon the warm sand. "Without you, I would have given into my despair and grief long ago, forsaking these lands and life. I would have followed my family into Mandos' Halls without experiencing anything in the world, in this new land.” The tips of his fingers turned white as Ecthelion’s grip tightened. His next words were mere whispers when he spoke. "We are both children compared to some of our elders, Glorfindel. There are still many years before us, and some of them will be good and peaceful, without the threat of war or darkness looming in the future." His grip relaxed, one hand reaching up again to gently cup Glorfindel's cheek accompanied by a warm smile on Ecthelion’s face. "If it were not for you, I would not be here now to wait in anticipation for such days to come."  
  
Glorfindel smiled at the words that reached his ears. He covered Ecthelion's hand with his own, a hint of love deeper than mere friendship glimmering in his eyes. "I will always be with you, whenever you need me. You don't even need to ask."  
  
"I know."  
  
The pair once again fell into silence as Ecthelion allowed his hand to slip away before he leaned against Glorfindel. He smiled as a strong arm snaked around his waist, holding him close. It felt soothing just to sit there in companionable silence, the sound of the sea around him. Ecthelion felt pleasantly relaxed and peaceful as he had not been in weeks. The world, for once, seemed as if it were righting itself. Then, a thought occurred to him.  
  
"Glorfindel?"  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Do you remember that day at Lórellin, before your majority?"  
  
A soft rumble of laughter vibrated between them. ”There were many days we spent by the lake before I came of age. Remind me which one you speak of."  
  
"The day we kissed."  
  
A small smile tugged at the corners of Glorfindel's lips. He briefly glanced down at Ecthelion before replying. "Aye, I remember that day. We spent a few more like that if I remember correctly."  
  
"Aye, we did. But none were like it."  
  
"Why do you bring it up?"  
  
Ecthelion fell silent, wringing his hands as he thought of what to say. "Glorfindel, _meldir_ , would you be adverse if I asked you to...to..."  
  
"To kiss you again?" His eyes were twinkling in mirth as Glorfindel returned Ecthelion's surprised stare. "Nay, I would not object to such a request. If it had been from any other, perhaps I would not so willingly accept. But the request comes from you, _mellon-nîn_ , and no other." Glorfindel frowned when Ecthelion's smile suddenly broke into laughter. “What is so funny?"  
  
"I was just remembering that day," Ecthelion said between breaths. "It was you who was so shy about asking me what a kiss felt like. And now I find it is I who is too shy to ask you if you would share another with me." His laughter died away, but the content smile remained on his fair face though it waned with each thought that entered Ecthelion's mind. "How times have changed, Glorfindel. How we have changed."  
  
"No more melancholy talk today, _mellon_ ," Glorfindel chastised. "Now, you were asking for a kiss I believe."  
  
The smile instantly returned to Ecthelion's face as he turned to his friend. "I was."  
  
"Then you shall have one." He leaned closer, pressing the tips of their noses together for a brief moment. Glorfindel smiled brightly before taking the next step and pressing their lips together.  
  
Ecthelion instantly melted into the kiss, his eyes closing as a soft mew sounded from the back of his throat. The arm around his waist tightened, drawing him closer to Glorfindel; he felt himself about to overbalance, and quickly rested his hands upon Glorfindel's thigh to keep from toppling over. His lips and teeth parted without hesitation when a questing tongue glided over his lower lip. Ecthelion couldn't quiet the sounds of delight that escaped him when Glorfindel's tongue languidly explored his mouth before sparring with his own. He could feel the beginnings of a tremor in his heart. Ecthelion knew he felt more than just friendship for this golden-haired beauty, but how far that feeling went he was not yet certain.  
  
Glorfindel felt it too as their kiss lengthened. Ecthelion and he had always been the closest of friends. He had heard others whisper of something deeper forming between them, but for his part nothing had seemed to change. Perhaps now their relationship was shifting, but how so? A part of Glorfindel understood that their relationship was not like others. He had witnessed many close friends interact; he had always witnessed how Rog and Egalmoth’s relationship had changed into love over the years. Yet, Glorfindel still couldn’t make heads or tails of his relationship with Ecthelion. Friends? Potential lovers? Something more? He needed - wanted - time to explore this. Whatever the nature of the relationship Glorfindel shared with Ecthelion, it was too precious to ruin unless he came to understand himself better.  
  
Gently, as the need for air became apparent, they pulled away from one another, attempting to prolong the kiss as long as possible. Two pairs of eyes slowly opened, staring at one another as if to gauge the other's thoughts. Slow smiles surfaced upon their faces as Ecthelion wrapped a finger around a lock of golden hair and gave it a tug.  
  
"Come," Glorfindel urged gently, bestowing a kiss upon his friend's brow. "The day moves on, and we should return to the city. There is still Turgon's proposal to make us captains to consider."  
  
"Aye," Ecthelion replied with a quiet sigh, wishing the moment would last longer. "We should return and resolve the matter." He allowed Glorfindel to pull him to his feet. After Glorfindel had stepped into his boots, Ecthelion grabbed his hands before Glorfindel could step away. He smiled at the bewildered look on Glorfindel's face as he kissed the back of each hand he held. " _Hannon le_.”

Glorfindel merely smiled, giving Ecthelion's brow another kiss, as they walked back to Vinyamar, hand-in-hand. They had uncertain days ahead of them, filled with both peace and strife. But at least they had one another's friendship to depend upon...perhaps more. Only time would tell.


End file.
